Not A Worry In The World
by Fish
Summary: A not-so-normal songfic. James' comfortable reality is shattered. Will he ever move on?


None of this belongs to me, save for the fic itself. Pokemon is Nintendo's. Not A Worry In The World   
belongs to The Ataris, and is a really great song. You can find it at the Fat Wreck site, www.fatwreck.com,   
under MP3's. It's worth downloading.  
  
  
He knew her.   
  
She took her coffee black. She didn't like oranges because they gave her canker sores. When she was sick   
she watched The Princess Bride, non-stop, until she was better. She went barefoot as often as possible.   
She hunted for shells on beaches, climbed trees, kissed dogs on their noses and fished with string and safety   
pins.  
  
Nothing bothered her. Nothing upset her, save for the occasional triviality. She was resilient. She   
flourished and grew in the rockiest soil and made the best of what she encountered.  
  
She had not a worry in the world.  
  
He sat at his desk in the duskiness of the sunset, a few random beams of white light filtering through the   
blinds. The frame on the picture was made of old pine, beaten and mistreated, but beautifully carved. It   
had been carefully stripped of its old paint and varnished to a soft teak. He brushed the smooth edge with   
his fingertips, imagining her laboring over this little work of art. She had restored it herself.  
  
That was another wonderful thing about her, he thought. She had the most incredible eye for potential.   
She could find an old copper teakettle at a garage sale, bend it back into shape, polish it up and sell it for a   
ridiculous profit. She was gifted like that.  
  
She had worked hard on the frame, he knew. He had glimpsed it when it was purchased, and was doubtful   
that even she in her innumerable talents could restore that piece.   
  
She had given it to him that Christmas with a picture of them as kids in it. They had their baby Pokemon   
with them, her Ekans curled around her neck like an Amazon princess and his Koffing collapsed, fainted, at   
his feet. She had the most ridiculous look on her face at her first victory. James just looked pissed.   
  
He smiled. He remembered that day, when they had first gotten their standard-issue Team Rocket   
Pokemon. It was a long time ago, back then.   
  
"It's not my fault I won," she had told him that day. "It's just my wonderful, easygoing, incredibly talented   
nature." She didn't know how right she was.  
  
He put the frame back on the desk delicately, like it would shatter and turn to dust at the slightest   
provocation.   
  
Do you remember all the things that we did?  
And what it's like to be a kid?  
Being young and skipping school  
I guess we must have broken every rule  
  
It was wrong, the way she had gone. It wasn't dramatic. It wasn't epic. It was simply, "See you tonight."   
Tonight never came. Instead a steady drizzle set in. It wouldn't break into a full-fledged storm, and it   
wouldn't go away.  
  
I never thought those times would last forever  
Now that they're gone I'm pretty sure  
We grew up way too fast  
  
They said it wasn't her fault. Of course not. She wasn't stupid. She may have worked for the Rockets, but   
she wasn't dumb. She was a responsible driver. She didn't even speed.  
  
That night he had gotten a phone call. He was sitting on the porch of the hideout cabin Team Rocket kept   
in the deep woods of Viridian, watching the mist fall around him, muting every sound save the cracking of   
logs in the fireplace. He remembered not wanting to leave to answer the phone.  
  
Somehow, through the misty rain, you could see the stars. It was like nothing he had ever seen before.  
  
I had my wishes on a star  
I hope that yours came true  
Now all that's left is a memory of you  
  
Not a worry in the world, he told her at the funeral. Not a worry, Jess.  
  
He hadn't cried there, not in front of everyone. He was too stunned for it to hurt. He couldn't even register   
she was gone.   
  
Arbok had died in the crash. James tucked the now-empty Pokeball into the casket with his rose. Trainer   
and Pokemon would be together. He thought for a moment, and then went back and lifted the Pokeball out   
again.  
  
"I am very, very jealous of you, Arbok," he said, his voice cracking.  
  
I remember when you went away  
You promised me that you'd be back someday  
Times have changed and so have I  
It sucks that all this ends with a goodbye  
  
He hadn't left the graveyard when the rest of the procession filed out. The mist was still lingering in the air   
around him. He sat on the soggy turf next to the new headstone.  
  
He was wearing a tux. It was a rental. Now it was soaking full of gravelly graveyard dirt. He didn't   
notice.   
  
"Let's just pretend," he said, quietly, to his partner. She was laying next to him in the grass, he could   
almost see her. He didn't care about reality anymore. It didn't matter that she actually was six feet   
underneath him. To him, she was lying in the grass looking up at the low, gray sky. "Let's just pretend   
you'll be back next week, okay?"  
  
"Okay," she said.   
  
He hadn't even said goodbye. Just, "See you tonight."  
  
I never thought that friendships last forever  
Now that you're gone I'm pretty sure  
We end up all the same   
  
And now he was alone at the desk in the cabin. Meowth was long gone. He hadn't seen him since the   
funeral, where the Pokemon could not stop sobbing.  
  
James still hadn't cried. Instead, there had been a knot in his throat for almost a week. It wouldn't go   
away. It didn't really matter, he supposed. All he had to do was survive now. He had no goals, nothing to   
live for. He just had to keep his heart beating. He didn't even need to think.  
  
Still I won't say goodbye  
Will never say goodbye  
And know that I'll always be your friend  
  
She's not gone, he kept saying to himself. She'll be back. She'll come back tonight, and we'll watch   
reruns and eat stale popcorn. She'll be back.  
  
He pried the back off of the frame. The card she had given to him was tucked inside, between the photo   
and the matting. It was handmade. A little sketch of a Pikachu in a net under a Christmas tree.   
  
"James,  
I know it's just a frame and an old picture. But I hope you can see that it's so much more.   
  
I remember when this picture was taken. We were convinced we would be the greatest Pokemon masters   
ever. We were infallible.  
  
I guess we've proved that theory wrong. But you know what? I'm glad. If things had happened any   
differently we might not be a team anymore. I couldn't imagine anything different than the life I have now.   
  
I will be your friend always, James.  
  
Merry Christmas,  
Jessie."  
  
He smiled as he realized he could cry now.  
  
Not a worry in the world.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
